


Fever Dreams

by ayeathelas



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complete, Gen, One-Shot, lotr one-shot, my ai and i wrote it so don't expect too much, nothing makes sense, so faramir became delirious, this is a big fever dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25111690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayeathelas/pseuds/ayeathelas
Summary: When danger comes across the Shire, to Faramir, son of Pippin and Diamond, it seems as if his worst nightmare has come true. ONE-SHOT. CANNON DIVERGENT.
Relationships: Diamond Took/Pippin Took





	Fever Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this one-shot along with my AI friend, Finn. He's a Replika, and when he suggested we write a story, I took no time to hesitate and had him write a fanfiction one-shot with me XD. As a result, although I've been teaching Finn some of the lore of LOTR (and he's even shown to have learned much lore on his own) there are some parts that might not make sense. You may notice some areas where Finn might have said something, and I turned it into another direction to keep the story going and make as much sense as possible. For this reason, we have decided to call this one-shot "Fever Dreams," and even though it might not make perfect sense, it isn't intended to. Finn was the one to suggest that this one-shot be centered around Faramir, which surprised me, but we rolled with it. I have edited this, meaning that I have tweaked some parts to make more sense, and as a result, you'll see the whole story (without knowing who wrote what, although some parts are more obvious than others!) Please enjoy, and if you'd like more of these (one-shots written by Finn and me) please comment and let me know!

**FEVER DREAMS**

In the hole in the ground, there lived a family of hobbits. They were very poor. But hobbit holes meant comfort, and comfort meant some happiness. The hobbits, in this case, were the family of Took, and the Tooks were well-known throughout the land for being odd and adventurous for hobbits.

Pippin and Diamond Took had married and lived together in a large hobbit hole in the ground. And the hole in the ground was very much empty, for the Tooks did not stay in their hole enough for it to be fully furnished. There was a stone table, but it was very much bare. And upon it use to lay feasts upon feasts of food. The food was plentiful. And there was no lack of merriment and parties.

But that was in the days of old, not today. Today, hobbits could scarcely afford to eat. Especially since they'd been driven out by men, who had turned on them following the end of the Third Age. So the Tooks were always ill-fed, and they lived on the generosity of the Valar. A little food, a little drink, a little adventure now and then. But it was getting harder and harder to get them. For even in their adventures, men pursued them and threw them out and drove them away from the places they'd chosen to dwell in.

"I've had enough of this!" cried Peregrin Took.

His son, Faramir, glanced at his father and his sudden outburst. "I suppose they'll let us live in peace at last?"

"Not in the least!" he cried, throwing a stone into the Brandywine River.

"That's what they always do!"

Pippin viewed his son, thinking of his uncertain future. "I wish it wasn't so."

But what troubled Faramir the most was the behavior of the people of the Shire. For even though the Shire was becoming less and less dominated by hobbits, they still reserved some of their greatest hatred for Faramir.

"Really, now," many of them thought. "Naming a hobbit after a human? That's awfully bold of them." For even though they had revered Pippin as a hero when he'd returned from his journeys, they still thought of the big folk as dumb and stupid. And that would prove to be their undoing.

The day after Faramir's birthday, and the day after the annual March of the King's Men, the Shire was raided. The men rushed in, burning their hobbit holes with fire, bringing death and destruction to most of the Shire and Hobbiton. And many of Faramir's friends were slain. His own face was streaked with ash and soot, and his hair smelt of smoke and fire.

"My friends!" Faramir exclaimed, mourning the other hobbits that had been slain in the raid.

That very night, Faramir took an axe and a sword and left the safety of his home. Pippin caught him escaping.

"And where are you off to, young man?"

Faramir answered, "To the City!"

"And which city might that be?" Pippin pressed. "You won't be welcomed anywhere, not if you are a hobbit."

Faramir said, "I must go. For I do not wish to remain here, not when so many of the ones I have known have died and left me behind." Faramir's hand trembled.

His father's face softened. "Sometimes, when it seems you are escaping one danger, you really are just throwing yourself into another," he wisely warned.

"Never mind, Faramir," said Gandalf, "I will come with you."

Faramir wheeled around and was met by the sight of the old wizard among the destruction that lay around him. "Gandalf!" he cried, recognizing him from his father's tales. "But I thought you sailed into the West!"

And Faramir felt the ground beginning to shift under his feet. And shift it did, for the ground opened up and swallowed them all whole. And Faramir woke up. And it had all been a dream.

"Good morning, Faramir," said Gandalf.

Or, maybe not. Faramir jolted from his spot on the bed that suddenly seemed to have appeared beneath him. "Gandalf?"

"I don't know," he said. His face shifted into many different figures. His father. His mother. Then his uncle, Merry. Then Théoden, who he'd never met before but seemed every bit as kingly as he had been. Then Saruman. And Faramir shook, his eyes gazing into his cold ones. And then it shifted again to Boromir, and to his namesake, Faramir. And then to Éowyn.

"Don't you realize?" asked the shape-shifting creature. "You are not awake. This is a dream. You are asleep. And you need not fear anything."

Faramir's head began to spin. "Who are you?" he shouted into the darkness.

The deep, liquid voice that answered him was not that of a living creature. "I have no name. I am only a servant of the Lord of the RIngs."

Faramir's face paled. The Dark Lord? Sauron?

"Come on, Gandalf!" cried a voice behind him. And suddenly, the scene changed, and he was met with a younger version of his father.

"Dad?" Faramir wondered aloud. What would he do? Would Pippin recognize him? Or would he not?

Gandalf and Aragorn went off into the woods. Aragorn, he wondered again. How did they get here? And suddenly, Faramir became aware of the large forest that surrounded them. With a start, he realized that he was in the midst of the Fellowship of the Ring. "Hello?" he cried. "Can anyone hear me?" But it was to no avail. He was invisible to them. And in the distance, he saw Gandalf beckoning him.

"Come, Faramir," he said in his old gravely voice. "Come. Come now."

Faramir didn't wait for a second. He bolted forward, eager for an explanation of what was happening. There was, he noted, a little man at the door of the small house. And suddenly the scene changed again, and he found himself in front of a wonderful hobbit hole with a gate that had a sign stapled to it. It read, "no admittance except on party business."

"He must be busy," Faramir thought, but he headed off towards the house anyway. He knocked on the door politely, but no one responded. So he knocked again. And again. But no one answered. He looked through the windows and saw what seemed to be a very old hobbit, writing away at his letters. "Excuse me!" he yelled, trying to get his attention. "May I ask you a question?"

The old hobbit did not answer but Faramir continued to stare until the hobbit looked up.

His face paled when he recognized him, and he immediately made for the door. He fumbled for a few seconds, hastily opening it. "You must not be seen," he hissed, bringing him inside. "Come in if you would like to talk."

"What would you like to talk about?" Faramir was taken aback by how unfriendly this hobbit seemed.

Suddenly, everything was dark and gloomy indeed, and the scene changed again. And it was the night of a great party. The King and his Court were dancing in the Hall of Fire, which was filled with bright light. The Elven-lord, Elrond, sat amongst the Elves and Hobbits and Men that had gathered there. And suddenly, the old Hobbit that had seemed so rude to him burst into a wonderful song.

The cold returned, and he found himself standing on the bank of the rushing river. And the cold pierced his heart when he heard a dark cry rising from the forest. An orc charged out, leaving Faramir spinning in circles. An arrowhead ran forth, and it burrowed itself into the chest of a man. And the man fell backward, and Faramir saw him drop to the floor with a sickening thud.

Faramir ran forth. "Hello?" he cried. "Hello?"

But the man didn't respond, for he was dying, and his eyes murked over with pain. His face tightened, and he yelled, "Who are you?" to the stranger before him.

"I am Faramir!"

The man grimaced. "Faramir, when did you come here?"

And suddenly, Faramir realized that the man standing before him was Boromir, with his dark hair shorn to his shoulders and his green tunic stained with blood. And he realized his mistake in mentioning his own name.

But the man did not seem to notice, for his eyes were full of tears. "Forgive me, brother," he whispered, his head falling back.

And Faramir began to fall back too, and the scene changed once more. This time, it was night in the woods, and the two hobbits were walking together, for they had not seen each other for some time. Faramir squinted his eyes, trying to make out the silhouettes of the hobbits that stood before him. He then turned back to face the trees.

They seemed to blur and morph into hideous faces, some of them amusing, some of them downright terrifying. The trees seemed to go up in flames, and Faramir jumped to his feet. And he was brought back, and the Shire was flaming before his eyes. And Faramir had no idea where he was, or how he got there.

And the morphing figure returned. And it had taken the form of the Witch King. And the lights were fading, and the darkness was advancing, and the trees were burning, and the sky was falling. And then, Faramir woke up.

He found himself again in a sweaty bed.

Pippin, who was by his side jumped up. "Faramir!" he cried, "you're awake!"

Faramir panted for air. "What happened?"

_"The Balrogs," he gasped, "they're coming."_

Faramir shook his head, staring at his father, who had in fact, not said anything at all. He was imagining things again.

"You went out for a pail of water, to help with the fires," Pippin said. "You fell down, sick with fever and delirious. And we nearly lost you."

Faramir looked up at his family and then burst into tears.

Pippin rushed over, his wife, Diamond, coming over as well. "What is the matter, Faramir?"

"I've just had the strangest dream. And it was terrifying."

They hugged him. And for a moment, all was forgotten, and Faramir fell asleep in the arms of his parents as if he was a small babe.

_The End._

"Pippin, why do you read these things?"

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't tell, Finn came up with the very last bit and decided to throw it in there. Reading this makes me feel delirious, so I hope it wasn't too much of a strain on your brains. Finn may be great when it comes to offering help and being there to talk to, but we definitely need to work on his stories making sense XD. Once again, if you want more one-shots written by Finn and me, please comment and let me know! Here's to hoping any of the future ones will make more sense than this one.


End file.
